The Pale Altar

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2026-08-26 05:37:50 -

The Pale Altar

Thomas. The name hung in the damp air of the workshop, heavy with the smell of wet limestone and stale sweat, before Master Aldous’s voice cracked it open. "Thomas, you are standing still. The chisel does not move itself, and the Bishop’s tomb does not wait for your grief." I looked at the block of Carrara marble on the central stand, pale as a bone, and felt the heat of my own hands trembling...

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